


More than Enough

by BloodMoonWitch



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, I just wanna make him happy, M/M, Muriel is gonna be an amazing dad, Other, Pregnancy, nobody can convince me otherwise, please let him be happy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2020-09-02 18:42:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20249953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodMoonWitch/pseuds/BloodMoonWitch
Summary: You and Muriel may have accidentally started a family because I’ve seen a few people do this and I want in.Not sure how long this will be, but I have too many ideas for my own good so I’m just gonna keep writing until I’m satisfied.





	1. How do I tell him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this can be interpreted in a few different ways. Either the apprentice is a female, or just has a uterus regardless of gender, or like because of ✨magic✨ they can have children even without one? I plan on leaving the gory birth details rather vague, so the specifics are totally up to you.

Lately, I just hadn’t felt myself.

Which is extremely cliché of me to say, but I just don’t know how else to describe it.

I was sick in the mornings, my head ached more than usual, I was taking far more naps thani should, and I would absolutely kill for a bowl of beef stew which I had never really been a fan of before. 

I had done the test myself, and magic hardly ever lied. No, magic never lied thirteen times in a row. Thirteen separate bowls sat in front of me, each clear as a perfectly cut crystal, not a hint of discoloration that would suggest any other options.

I was pregnant.

And by the color of the smoke cloud that puffed from each bowl as I had let a drop of my blood fall into each of them, it was going to be a baby boy. I hadn’t thought to look before, or maybe I was too scared to, but I slowly moved a trembling had to my stomach, closed my eyes, and reached out with my magic.

I felt him.

_My son._

Tears started to uncontrollably run down my face. I felt his soul, so young and bright, deeply untwined with mine. I felt his trust in me. This tiny, beautiful soul was trusting me to care for him in this world.

Asra must have heard me, I had been unaware of how loudly I had been sobbing, because he was at the door to my room, a room I hadn’t used much since I started to spend most of my time with Muriel. He rushed to me, but he was always so much more aware of the world. He must have guessed, between all the bowls and my focused attention on my stomach, and he sat with me in silence for a long while, his love and excitement reflecting my own as a few tears trailed down his cheeks.

“How do you plan on telling him?” he asked after a while, voice quite and calming as always. I was focusing most of my attention on trying to breath properly again.

“I have . . . no idea.” I knew how Muriel would, most likely, react. We had talked about children in the past, and although he always seemed to worry that he wouldn’t be very good at it, he couldn’t hide the glimmer in his eyes at the thought of being a father. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that he would be an amazing father, but it wasn’t something I wanted to pressure him into.

“You won’t be able to keep it from him for long,” Asra said, beginning to clean up the mess I had made earlier as I hurried through spell after spell, not really believing when each result came out to be the same. “I think he suspects something is wrong with you, and I’m just worried he thinks it’s some sort of illness.” I stood shakily from where I had been sitting on the floor, helping Asra carry the bowls into the kitchenette.

“What should I do? I don’t want to worry him anymore, but . . . I don’t know if either of us are ready for this.” Maybe I would have been more confident a few years from now, after a few more conversations about being parents, or maybe I would never really be fully prepared for something like this.

“Just be honest,” he said, taking both my hands comfortingly in his. “Tell him. Tell him how you feel about it, and then make sure he knows that Uncle Asra is willing to help out in any way I can.” There it was, that iconic smirk that made me want to both hug and slap him. I settled on not hitting the man who had saved my life.

“Thank you, Asra,” I said, pulling him into a tight hug before packing up my things and heading back home to Muriel. I had promised to only be gone an hour or two, just to make a trip to the shop to grab a few specific herbs and spices for dinner, and I was quickly nearing the end of the second hour.

As usual, Inanna walked me back home. I couldn’t tell if I was imagining things or not, but she seemed to look back to me more often, making sure I was still there, occasionally sniffing at my stomach and huffing in approval.

Muriel wasn’t there when we arrived, so I put away my things and got settled on his bed, a yawn surprising me as I suddenly felt like taking a quick nap. I blamed the long walk, though it had never tired me out before, and fell back onto the soft furs. It didn't take long for me to fall asleep, heavy eyelids quickly falling shut, Inanna cuddling up beside me. 

I woke up some time later, warmly snuggled up beneath a blanket I didn't remember falling asleep under with the smell of beef stew filling the air. I practically shot up like a hound dog who finally caught the scent of its prey, eyes darting towards the pot on the fire.

Muriel laughed gently from where he was sitting by the hearth, loozing over to me as he threw a few potatoes into the pot.

“You said you’d been craving it,” he said, smiling softly at me. Inanna had moved to sit by him, Muriel occasionally sneaking her a sliver of meat.

“But we were supposed to have the fish you bought,” I said, but before I even finished my sentence, I was eternally grateful that he had changed his mind. In my rush for answers, and then to get back home to him, I had completely forgotten the spices I had supposedly gone into town to get.

“This is good too. It should be done soon.” He walked over to sit by me, placing his hand lovingly on my cheek, and I closed my eyes and relaxed into his touch. As he pressed a soft kiss to my forehead, I began thinking of the different ways I could tell him, but there just weren’t any words to capture everything I wanted to say. Muriel always seemed to find a way to express himself without words, so maybe that was the way to go.

I took the hand not holding me and brought it to my chest, placing it right over my heart.

“I have something that I want to show you,” I whispered, allowing my magic to flow freely around us in invisible spirals of gold and white, connecting his soul to mine. We did that often, it was an easy way for him to show me some memories that weren’t so easy to share out loud, or for me to show him just how much I loved him. I let us sit like that for a moment, comforting and relaxed, but I knew I couldn’t keep this from him for much longer. He must have sensed something, the overwhelming excitement in my heart or my conflicting thoughts, but I quickly moved one of my hands to my abdomen, seeking out the little soul that now resided there.

I knew the instant Muriel felt a change, gasping and instinctively leaning in closer to me, and I even felt a little flickering of joy from the life within me as they connected for the first time. His eyes, wide and full of shock and hope, searched mine frantically. I heard his unasked question, and felt myself nodding slowly. Nothing felt real, nothing except for his hands on my skin and the connection like strings of starlight wrapping around the three of us.

He looked down my hand on my stomach, hesitant and unsure as he brought his hand down from my chest to rest over mine. I saw him putting together the pieces in his mind, my odd behaviors over the past few weeks making a little more sense. His mouth opened and closed a few times, and I could tell he wanted to say something, but like me, he was at a loss for words. It was when his breath started to get shaky, his bottom lip quivering slightly as tears pooled in his eyes, that I brought both of my hands to his face, worried that I was overwhelming him.

“Are you alright?” I whispered, unable to speak much louder. He fell to the floor beside the bed, buried his face in my stomach, and wrapped his arms around me tightly. I ran my fingers through his hair, my other hand falling into his shoulder. “Muriel?” He must have heard the concern in my voice, finally looking up at me with tears eyes and a bright smile.

Oh gods, he looks so happy . . .

Though his eyes were still clouded with tears, I could see the joy in them. He still looked unsure, maybe even a little scared, but I understood and felt the same. 

“Its a boy,” I said, letting a few tears roll down my cheeks as I smiled down at him. He let out a breath, looking back to my stomach as if he could see the life inside me. It nearly killed me to see his face fall slightly, knowing what thoughts might be passing through his mind. His head fell, hands starting to drop from my sides as he recoiled into himself. I stopped him, taking his hands in mine and just holding them gently. 

“Do you . . .” It hurt to ask, but I had to know. “Do you want this?” 

His eyes darted up to mine, wide with shock as if that was the last question he had expected me to ask. 

“Of course I do, I just-” he started, biting his lip as his brows pulled together. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” he breathed, worry etched into his every feature, “I . . . I wont be . . .” He trailed off, not quite meeting my eyes anymore. I brought my hands to comfortingly hold his face, and he melted into them, closing his eyes as he tried to take a few deep breaths.

”I don’t know what I’m doing either, my love, but we can figure it out together.” He still looked a little unsure, so I let my magic connect us again, showing him the light I felt emanating from within me. “Can’t you feel him? He trusts us, we just have to follow his lead and trust us too. Okay?” He nodded softly, and I let out a breath, relaxing and letting a smile return to my face. I pulled him back onto the bed with me, holding his head over my heart as he wrapped his big, warm arms around my waist. If not for the absolutely delicious smell of stew filling the air, I could have stayed like that for hours, but Muriel heard my stomach growl loudly and got up with a small chuckle to check on dinner. 

I hoped that our boy was right, that we could do this, because gods, just the image of Muriel holding him one day, soft and small and _ours_, was better than any dream I’d ever had. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Then they ate good soup and lived happily ever after.
> 
> I can’t remember if it was real or just some elaborate dream I had but I think I read another story about a magical pregnant person showing the father their baby’s soul through magic, and I don’t mean to intentionally steal anyone’s ideas. While writing this I remembered maybe reading something like that, so any similarities to a work that may or may not exist only in my dreams are accidental.


	2. Liar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let’s all just pretend that Julian knows how to deal with babies and not just leaches and chopping off limbs it makes the story cuter

Three or four months past by in a flurry. Muriel fluttered between overjoyed and worried and terrified and joyous again. He used to always walk with me into town, which had started out sweet and thoughtful but had quickly turned into smothering and overbearing. It was a tough conversation to have, to tell Muriel that he had to trust me enough to be on my own in the city. I knew that his heart was always in the right place, but I couldn’t enable that type of behavior. He got better, stressing less and less with each day I returned home just has safe as I had left.

He always went with me to visit Julian, though, and there wasn't much I could do to convince him otherwise. Not that I wanted to, anyway. I wanted him to be with me every step of the way, and monthly doctor’s visits in my old room at the shop were an important step. We had just finished wrapping up a checkup, Julian promising a perfectly stereotypical and healthy baby boy, and Asra added a bit of magic to science with a quick check of the baby’s soul.

“Have you thought of a name yet?” It was a question Asra asked almost every time we saw him, but the answer was always the same.

“Nope,” I said, and Julian looked comically disappointed.

“I still think he’s a Hiriophale.” Asra said almost absentmindedly, knowing damn well what he was doing. We always had this fight when Asra tried to suggest baby names.

“Asra, were not naming him Hiriophale.” I didn’t even bother to try and hide my eyes rolling into the back of my skull, grabbing onto Muriel as I tried to wiggle myself off of the bed that was much higher than I remembered.

“He was a great king! He calmed the raging waters and convinced the sky to remain above the land, he-”

“He’s fictional!” I yelled, jabbing a finger in his direction. Asra’s jaw dropped, horrified as if I had told him he wouldn’t be the baby’s uncle, which is something I often threatened him with.

“What about Julian? Or Ilya? They’re good names,” Julian chimed in with a stupid grin that I would smack off his face if he wasn’t responsible for monitoring the wellbeing of my child.

“You keep that shit up, and were naming him Ciahale.”

The two of them cringed at that, especially Asra, but Muriel just chuckled. Ciahale was the king responsible for taking away everyone’s inherit knowledge of magic, thinking that it was too dangerous to give out to just anyone, causing the few diligent and wise enough to have to seek it out and learn it on their own. He was also generally seen as a god of fools and cowards.

“No cursing in front of the baby,” Julian reprimanded me.

“Oh shut up! He doesn’t have ears yet.” I brought my hands to either side of my belly. I wasn’t absurdly round yet, but there was definitely a pronounced bump where there hadn’t been two months ago. Julian said I was probably in the middle of my second trimester, since I could only vaguely guess at when exactly _it_ had happened. Muriel had blushed furiously at the question when Julian had asked, despite how oddly professional the doctor had been at the time. There had been a few . . . steamy weeks last winter where both of us had rarely left the house. We had been extremely _occupied_ with one another.

After a delicious lunch of Asra’s probably world famous blue-tongued skink and a few more fists almost thrown over baby names, Muriel and I left to go back home.

I was so short in comparison to him, so walking with his arm around me mostly just meant that I could hide beneath his cloak with his hand just barely reaching low enough to hold my waist. Although spring was quickly fading into summer, there was still the occasional chill in the air, and his warmth was always a more than welcome comfort. It wasn't long after we stepped foot the forest that I started to feel sleepy, a full stomach and aching back not at all helping the situation. Muriel must have noticed me lagging behind slightly, grumbling to myself about my stupid cramping muscles, and all it took was one look down at me for him to reach down and cradle me in his arms, carrying me the rest of the way home. Though I usually didn’t like excessive coddling, I wasn't about to complain. I snuggled up close to his chest, trying my best not to fall asleep at first, but eventually I stopped fighting it. It was like sleeping bellow the deck of a massive ship, gently being rocked back and forth as Muriel walked.

“You did this to me,” I groaned, half asleep already.

“I’m very sorry,” he said, but I could hear the smile in his voice. I looked up at him, my big, handsome mountain man, and I could only melt further into him as he looked down at me with those loving green eyes. He pulled me up to place a kiss on my forehead.

“Liar,” I said, but there was no bite in my words. I was too exhausted and too in love to muster up anything more than a whisper.

“You’re right.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was shorter than I would have liked so I’ll probably be posting another short chapter like five minutes after I post this one. I just had this cute lil banter in mind and I wanted it to be its own thing so that’s what this is. Do not worry, birth is soon. Baby is arrive. Child. I’m exhausted its five o’clock in the mourning why do I keep doing this to myself- 
> 
> Also this didn’t have nearly enough Muriel in it so heck to everyone else the next chapter is just gonna be Muriel and baby no one else
> 
> Second also, I just made up some shit about mythology cause I wanted Asra to be a nerd let me have this.


	3. Big Baby Bump

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, some Muriel and baby fluff. Sadly, this is even shorter than the last one, but oh well. The next one should be a substantial length I promise, but I figured two short ones was just like one longer one.

There was no denying it now. 

I was _extremely_ pregnant.

Eight months in and you think we would get used to it, but every day seemed to bring about a whole new array of confusing hurdles. Poor Muriel had dealt with me going from far too energetic to passing out at random hours of the day to crying in his lap over how cute one of the new baby chicks was. All because of a little five pound soccer player living inside me. 

Julian said that he could see and hear now, and he was definitely a kicker. I gasped, feeling him going at it again like he was kick boxing my internal organs. 

“Muriel, tell your son he’s kicking me in the bladder and it is not appreciated.” I was laying on my side, trying desperately to ease the increasing pressure, but he just wouldn’t give up. Muriel was sitting on the bed behind me, looking through a cute book of baby names that Portia had given us a while back, but he immediately turned and wrapped his arm around me, snuggling up against my back. He began to rub gentle circles over my belly, just bellow my ribs, and almost instantly, the little man calmed down. 

“It’s not fair. He always listens to you,” I whined. 

“Let me see him,” he asked, his voice soft and loving as he resting his chin on my shoulder as he looked down to where his hand was placed. I closed my eyes and reached out with my magic, moving my hand back to rest on Muriel’s cheek. I felt the spark of light as the three of us connected, and Muriel hummed to himself as he continued to massage my stomach. 

“He’s so tiny,” Muriel muttered to himself. 

“Yea, well he’s not river dancing inside your stomach.” I felt more than heard Muriel laugh against my back. We had spent many hours like this, the three of us finding comfort and peace in each other. I couldn’t wait for the day where I could see my two boys together, watch as Muriel held him for the first time or laugh as he attempted to change a diaper. 

Before I knew it, there were tears in my eyes that I had learned not to fight a long time ago. It didnt take long for me to turn into a bit of a mess, snotty and incoherently telling him how much I loved him as Muriel just turned me around to hold me to him, keeping one hand on my stomach and bringing another to soothingly run through my hair. He’d grown used to this by now, though it used to have him worrying and fretting over me as he tried to figure out what was wrong when there was really nothing to blame. 

Eventually, I calmed down, but by then the already setting sun had disappeared, and I could feel myself starting to fall asleep. Stifling a yawn against Muriel’s chest, I reached up to place a sleepy kiss on his lips. I stayed there for a moment, looking into his eyes that he couldn’t pull away from our hands on my stomach, the most beautifully soft smile on his face.

After one more kiss, I turned over so that I was laying on my left side, and I made sure to drag Muriel’s hand along with me, keeping it pressed against my stomach. How many nights had we fallen asleep just like this? It seemed to be the only comfortable position these days, but it had always been one of my favorites. 

Muriel kept rubbing gently all over my belly, kissing along my neck and shoulder until I fell asleep, apparently snoring quite loudly now a days according to him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think the apprentice has like just passed out in every single chapter so far like its a trend at this point I can’t break it. I think it’s because I remember my mother telling me about how when she was pregnant with me she would just flopped down anywhere and take naps constantly.


	4. Little Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Preface: I HAVE NEVER BIRTHED A CHILD 
> 
> I don’t know what its like, I’ve never seen someone give birth in real life, and idk if I trust how dramatic some TV shows are, so I’m winging this shit. As I said before, it’s gonna be pretty vague, but I can’t exactly skip over this part. Its like, kinda important. Trust me, I tried to skip it, it just felt weird to not write at least a little bit about it. 
> 
> I left out the gross stuff like the afterbirth and the cutting of the umbilical cord so lets just assume that Asra took care of it with ✨ magic ✨

According to Julian, the whole thing went really well.

According to Muriel, Julian was slowly killing me and Asra was standing there letting him.

At one point, I was inclined to agree with Muriel, but it wasn’t long after that that Asra had stepped in with a bit of magic to hurry things along and ease the pain a great deal. The whole ordeal couldn’t have lasted more than three or four hours, but it felt a hell of a lot longer.

I hadn’t really known what to expect going into it, and our friends were absolutely no help.

Julian and Morga were the least helpful. Julian rambled on about way too many technical things and it freaked me out, and Morga told me the seventeen hour horror story of her birthing Lucio when she was in town to visit Nadia a few weeks ago. It was not in the least bit comforting.

Portia, Nadia, and Mazelinka were also surprisingly useless in terms of sharing knowledge. None of them had ever had children, so at least they didn’t have any tales to terrorize me with. Pasha and Nadia were constantly sending gifts, though. Everything from baby clothes to pregnancy-safe pain medication for my aching _everything_. And Mazelinka often sent Julian to us with delicious food, somehow always satisfying whatever odd craving I was having that week.

Asra was, as usual, the most comforting, promising that if anything went wrong or took too long, that he would use a little magic to help out. He didn’t want to rely on magic completely though, because who knew what kind of side effects that could have on the baby.

When the time came, Muriel brought me to the shop and helped me upstairs into my old room. Luckily, Julian and Asra were already there waiting for us. 

An eternity later, I was still clutching Muriel’s hand like it was causing the all the pain, screaming and crying with each contraction and generally sounding like an unholy demon rising from the pit.

“Just breath-”

“Tell me to fucking breath one more time Asra! I swear to the gods I’m going to strangle you with your own large intestine!” A spike of pain plowed through me, another contraction, and I screamed as if someone was amputating my foot with a rusty spoon.

“Julian,” Muriel hissed, a mixture of concern and anger swirling in his voice.

“We’re nearly there, I promise.”

“Muriel!” I whined, gritting the words through my teeth. I was flooded with a strange fear, a fear that I couldn’t do this, that I wasn’t strong enough, that this was going to break me.

“Asra, do something!” Muriel begged him. He must have seen the panic in my face, or maybe our souls had connected somewhere along the way and he could feel it.

“Okay, okay-” He quickly moved, sitting on the bed next to my stomach, and placed his glowing hands on my skin. Almost immediately, the pain eased, and I breathed in deeply, letting my grip on Muriel’s hand loosen. Muriel looked relieved too. He brought my hand up and gently kissed it, but I couldn’t look up into his worried and loving eyes just yet. All of my attention was focused on listening to Julian’s voice, doing exactly as he said.

“Big push, ready?” Julian asked. Whether I was or not, it didn’t matter. Asra kept his hands on my stomach, light pouring our from them and into me. It helped tremendously with the pain, but I still felt the tension as I did what Julian told me to. With one final push, it was over. 

I was a sweaty mess, no longer in any pain thanks to Asra, but he was here in my arms after what felt like forever and he was so perfect. He was wiggling and crying but that’s understandable, he’d just been given a whole new world and everything must seem a little frightening. I kept him close to my chest, bringing my face down to his and smiling through the tears in my eyes as I finally got to hold him.

Muriel was right there sitting beside me on the bed, a little hesitant at first, but it didn’t take him long before he carefully wrapped his arms around the two of us, just as shaky and teary eyed as me.

“Muriel,” I whispered, out of breath and exhausted but so in love.

_He’s here._

_He’s right here in my arms._

_My baby._

_Mine . . ._

Muriel’s arm around my shoulder squeezed me just a little tighter, and I feel his trembling smile against my skin as he kisses my forehead.

Asra and Julian must have stepped out for a minute to let us have a moment with him, but I only noticed when they came back into the room with a bowl of warm water and some towels to clean us both off. I was reluctant to at first, but I let Asra take him. Muriel was given a towel, and though he kept looking back to the small bundle Asra and Julian were taking very good care of, he helped me to wipe off the layer of sweat and amnionic fluid our little boy had left on my chest and arms.

When Asra walked back over to us, he looks to me first, a silent question hanging in the air. Although I longed to hold my baby close to me again, I knew what I should do instead.

“Do you wanna hold him?” I asked Muriel. His head spun to look at me, only mildly terrified at the idea, but Asra was already placing him in Muriel’s arms, adjusting them to support his head and cradle his back. Julian was at my other side, placing a few more pillows behind me and helping me sit up a bit so I could watch them. Before he pulled away, I grabbed his hand and held it tightly.

“Thank you,” I said, trying to express just how grateful I was for all he had done over the past nine months through just the few words I could muster and a heartfelt gaze. He seemed to understand, gently pulling me into a small hug before going back to stand by Asra. “Both of you.”

“We’ll give you two a minute,” Asra said, smiling and taking Julian’s hand to lead him downstairs.

I was so propped up by all the pillows that it was easy for me to let my head fall onto Muriel’s shoulder. He was sitting so that he partially faced me, and I got to look at our son again. This time, it was an image that I had dreamed of seeing many times. He had felt small against my chest, but the bundle of white almost disappeared in Muriel’s big arms. I reached up and pulled the blanket down a little so that I could see his face, not really surprised to see him still and calm and probably asleep.

“He always did love you holding him.” My voice was still quiet and rough. I placed a kiss onto Muriels shoulder, running my hand first along my baby’s chest before moving it over Muriel’s arm. We stayed like that, quiet and holding him together, for a while before Muriel spoke.

“I-” he tried, but barely a sound came out at first. I looked up to him, my heart clenching in a mixture of love and wonder. He looked so . . . in awe. His mouth hung open slightly, and I could see in his eyes that he was fighting between fear and devotion. “I never . . . I never thought I could have this.” He whispered the words deliberately, his watering eyes never leaving our boy’s face.

“I’m never going to let anything bad happen to you . . .” His eyes were focused on the space between us, like his words were meant for both our son and me. When he looked up at me, his breathing was shaky and tears were flowing freely down his cheeks, but the love in his eyes outweighed any other fears he may have had. I ran a hand through his hair an brought his face closer to mine, pressing our foreheads together.

It was a perfect moment, quiet and so full of love. Until a massive yawn broke out across my face. Muriel laughed a little, but it was mostly just a soft and loving smile.

“You should rest,” he says, and I knew he was right. Every part of me was exhausted, but the need to hold my son was still more powerful. I didn’t even try to speak as another yawn came along to disrupt whatever I could have said. I just reached out, grunting vaguely as I tried to express what I wanted. Muriel understood, and he placed him back onto my chest, tucking a blanket over the both of us and rearranging the pillows to support my arms as I held him.

“He still doesn’t have a name,” I manage to mumble, half complaining and half joking. Muriel was quiet for a moment, looking deep in thought before speaking again. 

“Amias,” he whispered. I look up at him, a little shocked but mostly curious. Where had that come from? He tried to speak again, his voice mumbling lower and lower as he went. “I - I dont know. I found it in that book from Portia . . . It’s-”

“It’s perfect,” I breathed out, and Muriel shyly smiled down at our boy. Looking back down, seeing his tiny body curled up on top of mine, I wasn’t sure what it was, but I couldn’t imagine a name that fit more. “Little Amias.”

I could feel myself slipping further and further into a much needed rest, but I didn’t miss the kiss that Muriel pressed to my cheek or his words as he told me that he loved me. After that, I think I feel him leave the bed, footsteps going downstairs to talk to Asra and Julian, but sleep was already fogging my brain by then.

I woke up some time later to Muriel’s hands in my hair and a wiggly baby on my chest. I just watched as Muriel carefully put his hand on his back, rubbing back and forth gently until he stilled again.

“You’re too good at that,” I said, and it startled him for a second before he smiled at me, blushing like I hadn’t seen him in a while.

“Julian says we should stay here for the night and go home in the mourning. He wants to be able to watch over you two just in case,” he said quietly. I gently moved over, keeping my hands on Aamiss as I made room for Muriel to lay down beside me on the bed. It was much bigger than the one at home, but he still stayed just as close as he usually would. With a baby on top of me, I had no choice but to lay on my back, and Muriel snuggled up on his side next to me, moving one arm under my head to wrap around my shoulders and the other arm staying where it was with his hand on Amias’s back.

_Amias . . ._

It didn’t matter that Julian claimed him to be perfectly average and healthy, that he had all ten fingers and toes, or two eyes that I’m sure were going to be beautiful when he opened them. He was mine. And Muriel’s. Our baby boy, our little Amias, was perfect because he was ours.

I was still exhausted, and it didn’t take long for all three of us to fall asleep. Even though we had done this before, fall sleep with our arms around each other, this time was different. This time, I could see him, feel him, press a kiss to his head whenever I wanted to. It was bliss. 

When we woke up in the morning, Julian checked us both over one more time before telling us that we should be able to go home. Both he and Asra promised to visit everyday that week to check up on us. For once, Muriel seemed grateful for the frequent visits.

I wasn’t ashamed to admit that walking was an issue, having just given birth and all, but Muriel didn’t seem to mind carrying me as I held Amias.

Being back in the forest was more relaxing than I anticipated, but being back in that little cabin, being back home, being with Muriel and our son, brought the most comforting feeling to my heart. I had found a family in Muriel, and now that family was growing. We had a son, someone who needed us to look after him in this world, and I knew that there was nothing Muriel and I wouldn’t do for him. 

Our Amias. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amias literally means “loved” in Latin shshshhshshsh 
> 
> Sorry this took a bit longer than I expected, but writing about someone giving birth had me feeling all weird. The next few chapters are hopefully going to be a bit easier to write and come a bit quicker. I’ve only got two or three more ideas in mind though, so if there’s anything you’d like to suggest, don't hesitate to throw it my way.


	5. Stinky Man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I spent five days babysitting my three month old cousin, and I wrote down all the cute shit he did so that’s what this is

How could such a sweet little man produce such a god awful smell?

I had fed him over two hours, and as I sat with him laid down over my thighs, his little legs wiggling on my chest, I saw _the face_. He looked so concentrated, tiny nose scrunching up and eyes squeezing closed, and I knew what was coming.

It wasn’t long after that that I smelled it. Even Muriel, who was sitting all the way by the fire with Inanna, looked up at me in horror.

Whoever decided that babies couldn’t just poop normal poops was a madman and a sadist. Why was it so green? So liquidy? So foul smelling?

With a deep sigh, I picked him up and brought him over to the bed, grabbing a fresh diaper and some soft baby wipes from Asra. I had changed hundreds of diapers in the past two and a half months since he was born, but I don't think I’ll ever get used to that smell.

Muriel walked over to us eventually, sitting down on the bed beside Amias after he was sure the coast was clear. He had changed the last poopy diaper, and it had not gone well. He had tried his best, and in the end, Amias was clean and happy in a neatly wrapped diaper. But Muriel, my poor love, had been got by the oldest trick in the baby handbook.

Right as Muriel was removing the diaper and starting to clean a stinky butt, Amias decided that, yes, now was in fact the perfect time to pee. It had happened to me before, too many times, and I had developed a reflex to quickly wrap the diaper back over him and wait until he had finished peeing. Muriel, however, had only watched this process from outside of the line of fire. He had softly laughed when it happened to me, thinking that it was adorable or humorous. He was not laughing then.

I stayed kneeling on the floor by the bed, my fingers trapped in his hands like a tiny death grip as I kissed and blew raspberries into Amias’s tummy. He had recently begun to react to things, cooing or smiling whenever we played with him. Most of the time, he would just look up at us with wonderstruck eyes, curiously taking in the world around him.

“Hey stinky man,” I said, and his eyes darted from where he was intensely looking at Muriel’s face to mine. He smiled at me, making an adorable and joyful nonsense noise as he waved his arms around, shaking my fingers that he still held onto tightly. “Hey . . . Well, you’re all clean now. You wanna take a nap?” I kept my voice pitched a little higher than usual, more singing than speaking as he seemed to react to that more. He started cooing again, kicking his feat and smiling. “Oh yea? Come on then.” I lifted him up, cradling him in my arms and bouncing slightly as I walked around the room. It hadn’t taken long to figure out that he did not like it when I just sat down and tried to get him to sleep. I wasn’t sure what it was, but he just liked to keep moving until he fell asleep.

Today though, he wasn’t having any of that sleep nonsense. He kept wiggling and half crying little fake tears into my shirt, fighting me every step of the way.

I could feel Muriel watching us, so I turned towards him, his loving eyes moving between the two of us as I continued to struggle with Amias. 

“Your turn, papa bear,” I gave up, handing Muriel his unruly son so that he was facing his chest, big hands coming up to gently hold him. Muriel didn’t even have to stand up, didn’t even have to bounce him or sway slightly, Amias just calmed instantly and snuggle up against Muriel’s chest. Now, as someone who has slept on said chest before, I can attest that it is one of my favorite places to sleep. It just wasn’t fair.

“He hates me,” I said, staring down at my son as he quickly falls asleep against his father.

“I’m sure that’s not true,” Muriel tried to comfort me, his voice soft and quiet so he didn’t wake up the baby.

“Maybe it’s because you’re just so warm.” I flopped down carefully on the bed beside him, resting my head against his shoulder.

“Maybe,” he mumbled, his head tilted down as all of his attention was focused on Amias, who was fast asleep now.

“Do you wanna put him down?” I asked, but Muriel shook his head. He just leaned back, resting his head against a pillow and keeping Amias on top of him. Shifting up on the bed, I laid down beside Muriel, one arm folded under my head and my other hand resting over his on Amias’s back.

He slept for a little over an hour, only waking up once to fart and cry a little. I gave him one of my fingers to hold onto, and he gripped it tightly, easily falling back asleep.

“He’s going to need to eat soon,” I said.

“I don’t want to wake him,” he whispered, looking disappointed at the idea of having to move him away.

“He’ll probably wake up on his own soon anyway, love.”

A few minutes later, he did wake up, curious and wide eyes looking up at Muriel as he tried his best to push himself up, but his tiny little arms just weren’t quite strong enough yet. Muriel sat up, pulling up his legs to rest the little man against them. You would think they could talk to each other, their eyes conversing in ways I couldn’t even understand. Giving me one of his hands to hold, Muriel let Amias grab onto the thumb and pinky fingers of his other hand. He seemed content to sit there for a few minutes, but like clockwork, he began to cry for a bottle.

Muriel did his best to console him as I got up to mix the formula Mazelinka had given us into some warm water.

“Oh, stop that. That’s not very convincing,” I said, but Amias kept up with those crocodile tears until I put the bottle in his mouth. Muriel took it from me, leaning his legs back a bit so that Amias wasn’t sitting up so much.

Acting like he hadn’t been fed all day, Amias basically chugged the entire bottle. He focused on it with adorable intensity, but occasionally, his eyes would droop closed for a few seconds before he startled awake and began again. I tried to stop him halfway to burp him, but he didn’t seem to have a problem with just plowing through until he drained every last drop. Muriel handed him to me then, and the crocodile tears returned as I patted his back until a rather large burp and a bit of spit up seemed to calm him down.

“There we go,” I said, pulling him back and helping him to sit up in my lap. “Feel better?” He was smiling up at me, a little spit up still on his chin. I wiped it away, kissing his little chubby cheek and loving the cooing noise I got in return. Muriel scooted closer to me, wrapping an arm around my waist.

“Hello,” he murmured, leaning forward so that his chin rested on his knee, eye level with Amias. He babbled something back, and Muriel just smiled at him.

“I wonder what goes on inside his head?” I brought my face down to his, nuzzling his nose and pressing another kiss to his forehead. “What are you thinkin about, stinky man?”

“He says you’re very beautiful,” Muriel said without skipping a beat. I looked over to him, expecting the blush I saw but not the adorable grin that went with it.

“How do you know?” I challenged him, but he just shrugged. Shaking my head, I reached over and kissed him softly, only pulling away when Amias started wiggling too much for me to control.

“Okay, your turn,” I said, going back to pressing little kisses all over his face. “I love you, my little stinky boy.” Surprising Muriel with another kiss to his cheek, I said, “And I love you, my big stinky man.” He laughed against my lips as I kissed him again.

“I love you too.”

We went about our day as usual, one of us holding Amias while the other made something to eat or cleaned up the cabin that was constantly a baby-related mess now a days. I fed Amias one last time before putting him to bed for the night. He was getting increasingly better at not waking up every two or three hours crying for food. One night last week, he didn’t wake up at all, but that was probably because he had been fussy all day and had hardly napped.

With everything from dinner cleaned up and put away, I pathetically flung my arms up in the air, not wanting to walk the five feet from my chair to the bed and knowing Muriel would carry me. Without even a sigh, he lifted me up, and I wrapped my arms and legs around him like a koala as he brought us to bed. Being completely still for the first time all day felt strange, and even as I laid down beside Muriel, I could still feel an odd phantom wiggling of a baby on my chest. Muriel must have seen me smiling to myself, because it wasn’t long until he asked me what I was thinking about.

I just shook my head, too tired to say much of anything other than a sleepy _I love you_ into Muriel’s chest. He held me tightly, as he always did, and we both tried to get as many hours of sleep as we could before a certain stinky man woke us up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn’t edit this nearly as many times as I should have, so please point out any mistakes you see. I’d hate to just leave them there looking all nasty.


	6. Magic Trick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I use the word “mother” in this for lack of a better word so just think of it as like a gender-less term that just means “person who birthed another thing”

Knitting pissed me off.

It amazed me how Asra always seemed to fluidly move the yarn and needles while simultaneously watching me try and fail to cast on again and again. That prick probably used magic to keep the loops from sliding off the edge of the needle and unraveling.

Despite the fact that I was pretty sure it was more torturous than removing my nose hairs one by one, I was trying desperately to knit a new scarf for Muriel. The green one I had given him years ago had turned into a baby blanket when Amias came along, and even though he insisted that the cold didn’t bother him, I knew he secretly appreciated the extra bit of warmth it brought.

“Ah shit-” another loop dropped. I was getting better at snatching them back up before the whole thing started to unravel. My knitting was still so slow that I had been working with the thick green wool for three days, and I barely had an inch of stitches to show for all my agony. I was eventually going to give up and just buy him one in town, but my trips to Vesuvia were becoming less and less frequent. I really wanted to try and make him one on my own.

Muriel walked through the door of his - our - hut then, Inanna in tow, and in his arms, a small green bundle he couldn’t take his eyes off of.

About half an hour before, Muriel had come over to where I was feeding our now six month old baby boy and said, very seriously, that he needed to have a talk with him alone outside.

“You know he cant talk yet, love,” I joked, rewarded with my favorite smile, but his eyes hadn’t moved from our boy.

“He listens,” was all he said, and so after he had finished his mashed carrots and green beans, Muriel had carefully picked Amias up, wrapped him in his old scarf, and took him outside after promising to keep his face out of the sun.

I couldn’t help it. I drug a chair so that my back was to the doorway, knitting things on a small table in front of me, and used a bit of magic to carry his voice to my ears.

“My little Amias, I . . . I have many things that I need to tell you,” he began, his voice that soft and hushed tone Muriel only ever used on him. He was quiet for a moment, and I heard the rustling of leaves as he sat beneath a tree.

“I used to have these nightmares . . . I was back in that coliseum. Fighting for . . . _nothing_. Nothing mattered then. Not my own life, not any of the lives I took, nothing. I just wanted to protect the one friend I had in the world, but I . . . I lost myself. I didn’t think that I was worth anything, and even after I freed myself, I couldn’t see anything but an animal, a monster. But . . . I can’t be those things and still be capable of having you. I still can’t really believe that you’re mine, that you’re my son. You and your mother are the reason that I feel like I may actually be worth something . . .” His breath falters, and I know that I’m not the only one with tears in my eyes.

“Not once in all those years did I ever think that this might be my future . . . but it’s when I see myself in you, in your eyes that are starting to look more and more like mine, that I have to wonder if this is all a dream. You . . . are the most important part of my life, and although your mother may deny it,” he said, a smile in his voice, “I think that we both love you more than we could ever love each other because . . . because you have their smile, and infectious laughter, and my eyes, and . . . I hope that you will grow up to be strong like me, probably even stronger.” I couldn’t control the tears that flowed down my cheeks. I don’t think I’d ever heard him say this much, especially this much from his heart, all at once. How long had he thought about how he would say these things? Did he know that I would listen in? Were some of his words meant for me?

“The world had betrayed me,” he continued, more composed this time, “taken away any part of myself that I could have loved, and I never want you to feel that way. I want to be there for you, always. And even if you do grow up to be bigger and stronger than me, I will always be your protector.”

They stayed outside for a long while, just silently enjoying each others company, and I tried my best to compose myself and make it look like I had been busy when they came back.

He carefully placed our son in the crib he had carved from the stump of a long dead oak tree, little bears and wolves and birds carved into the sides. I had begun to paint some of the carvings, but stopped when I got to the actual animals. I couldn’t bring myself to cover up his artwork with mine, so I just filled in the empty spaces with diluted shadows and trees and sunlight.

Muriel came over to me then and scooped me up in his arms, my feet dangling above the ground as I tightly wrapped my arms around his neck. As the years passed, his gentle hands had never changed, but the braveness of them had. It had been a long time since he had had to ask my permission to hold my hand or kiss me when he wanted to, and I was ever grateful for the trust he had placed in me to care for his heart.

“Is he sleeping?” I asked, my voice muffled against his neck. He grunted in response. “I’ve got to wash the dishes before he wakes up, or else I’ll never get them done. Your son eats like a bear.” Muriel laughs against me, and I gently whacked him on his shoulder. “I’m serious! He’s dirtied every bowl we have in just the past two days!” That only earned more laughter, and the sound was so sweet, I couldn’t help but join in for a moment. “Put me down, I’ve got to-“

“No.”

“Muriel!” I protested quietly, desperately trying not to wake the baby.

“No,” he said again, a humor in his voice, and he started walking us towards the bed.

“No, no, Muriel!” I tried, totally using all of my strength, to wiggle free from his grasp, “Come on you know we both have a lot of work to do- omf!” He fell onto the bed, gently squishing me beneath him, and a flurry of giggles fell from my lips as he kissed along my neck. “We can’t be bums all day.”

“I’ll do all of it later,” he promised, “just let me have this.” _This. Let me have this moment of love. Let me have someone that loves me. Let me have a son that I can always hold. Let me be free of my past. Just let me have this . . ._

“You can have everything, Muriel,” I said with a kiss to his cheek, watching his face closely as his eyes closed and muscles relaxed into my touch. “You deserve the world.”

He smiled briefly, eyes opening to catch mine.

“Asra taught me some magic the other day,” he said with a small smile.

“Really?”

He hummed in response.

“He taught me how to hold the entire world in the palms of my hands.” I leaned back to get a better view of his face and saw that he was quite serious. What was Asra getting himself into now?

“Well, this I have to see.”

He turned us so that we were laying on our sides facing each other, and he brought his hands up in between our faces, forming them around an imaginary ball. I was concentrating so hard on looking for some sort of globe like structure, that I didn’t even notice him moving them closer to me until he was holding my face. For a moment, I froze, completely confused by his actions until I remembered what he had said.

I melted into his touch, looking up at him through the tears that I couldn’t control to see his beautiful, blushing, smiling face.

Of course, this was also when our precious little baby decided that he would scream loud enough for Uncle Asra to hear. I quickly moved to him, cradling him in my arms and humming softly as I walked slowly back to the bed. After placing him carefully next to Muriel, his little hands instinctively reach out to grab his fathers as he nuzzled his face into his chest, I carefully settled back down beside him. I placed I kiss first on Amias’s head, then to his father’s, my love’s lips.

“Little bear,” he said as I moved back down to rest my head on the pillow beside him, “I have a magic trick I want to show you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ive got an odd feeling that the next chapter is going to be jumping in time a bit . . . Like, a few years . . . 
> 
>   
It’s toddler time
> 
> UPDATE: 
> 
> So school is kicking my ass and I’ve barely had any me-time to write, so this story is momentarily on pause. I will absolutely come back to it eventually, but until college stops trying to ax murder me, I just gotta focus on not dying. I’ll probably post the occasional thing here or there either for this story or something else, but for the most part, I’ll have to just suffer. 🙃


End file.
